


All the Pretty Lights

by swamplamp



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Gen, they had a history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swamplamp/pseuds/swamplamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuse and Quorra knew each other for a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Pretty Lights

She doesn't quite fit in. Zuse senses that. He knows it before he knows her. It is his job, after all.

Quorra is an ISO, so perhaps their individual nuances make them who they are. But she is a specimen of a different sort. If the ISOs were a stream of glowing circuits, she would be an entirely unique shade of blue among the crowd of greens.

Zuse could not resist.

"I could feel you from a mile away, my dear. Your aura is absolutely marvelous."

She flashes her bright smile at Zuse and there is not a mystery in the Grid that doesn't fascinate her. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you vivid, fascinating little thing! I could put you in my data bank and keep you forever." And he could. Not legally, of course. This day and age is characterized by paranoia and the occassional hideaway.

There is talk in the town of an unforgiving threat looming over the ISOs. They could have a half of a cycle left before their population is eradicated, poor things. But it's all in the contract, isn't it? They come as easily and as suddenly as they go. "I would much like to keep you under my watch for a centicycle or two. Teach you a few things. Wouldn't you like that?"

Of course she would.

She is a program of extraordinary grace. Or, is she really a program? She is no everyday conscript found wandering the Outlands. She is an ISO. One of which he would never disc-tamper with. Zuse has dealt with ISOs before. They've come and gone; he has admitted them and set them on their way with a flick of his cane. To blend in with the other programs in Tron City is certainly a simple feat once you've come to Zuse for assistance. But why would he want for dear Quorra to be one of them? There is so much more to be done with her.

\--------

Whispers of unspeakable things begin to bubble up onto the surface of the Grid. The Creator's program friend has made it clear that he is not here to help. And the other program--the city's namesake--can only do so much. The Creator's absences become far longer than anyone can afford. In no time, more and more programs show up on his doorstep, begging and questioning. They look to Zuse as though he is the only buffer against the madness. A common and ironic misconception, really.

He avoids the risk of appearing to take sides. If the price is right, Zuse will cater to your needs. If the price is right. This is who he is now. Turn a blind eye to all things grim. Perhaps this is what the Grid needs. But is this what she needs?

Quorra does not come to him. In all her goodness and youth, she does her people one better. She remains a light among the chaos, facing the threat of deresolution alongside her fellow ISOs. Zuse is an outside observer. He watches as Quorra delves into the heart of danger.

He would take credit for her bravery, strength, and loyalty, but that isn't him at all. That's her. She knows what she has to do. And today, he realizes what he has to do.

He can be discrete when he intends to be, although those intentions are rare. When he comes to her, he feels that his disguise is not so outlandish because he's met with the disfigured shell of an ISO he once may or may not have known. Quorra lacks the beautiful luster that once set her apart from the rest. At some point, she has blended in with the others very successfully, becoming no different from the maddening flock. Zuse could not bear it.

"They're only other programs. How could they? They glow red. I didn't know that they could."

"This is not the time to lose our heads, my little circuitry spark. I need you to tell me who. Was it the MCP?"

"Who? No. No, it was the one who wears the face of the Creator. Clu."

He takes no time to feign surprise. Of course it was him. But to know that she knows, it sets his circuitry aflare. She has been shoved into a world that has thoroughly hollowed her of her shine. He would do anything to get it back, even if it meant giving her the world.

He offers her safekeeping, but she refuses. This, she is sure about.

\--------

Those who request his presence are a mixed bunch nowadays. The ISOs who can afford to escape have already gone and the rest are widdling away their days. Zuse delves into the heart of danger. And he discovers that the quiet before the storm has finally come. He slips away without a sound.

"They are coming," he tells her. And this time, she does not refuse.

"I need to take everyone else. They're all still here."

"We have to go now." And he feels them. A unified army of paranoia and confusion. The Maker is nowhere to be seen and all that's left is destruction. Surely, she could feel them as well. And, with that, she's gone. Perhaps, today, her grace and subdued light can allow her to find the way, unnoticed.

The ISOs' tower crumbles and one last chorus of fear is cast out into the Grid. Here marks the rise of a new order.

Zuse allows it to overtake him. He rings it out loud and clear. This calls for something a little different. Castor. It's not the first of a change in pace, a change in name.

For a time, he tells himself that this is no display of fanfare, but rather a distraction. He hopes that it's enough to throw them off her scent.

Zuse becomes something of a myth. But, really, he is two people. It's what little he can do in order for it all to be right and just. He hopes that she doesn't come back to look for him.

He builds a tower in the middle of a city named after a dead program. He will not allow these connotations of deresolution and dark times to drag down the emergence of dawn. The horizon is bright and it only grows brighter. And he hopes that it blinds every last one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for a prompt on the [tronkinkmeme](http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com/3162.html?thread=1828442#t1828442). And I made a [playlist](http://8tracks.com/phacelia/all-because-of-what-you-are) based on this thing.
> 
>  
> 
> _2/11/2011_


End file.
